


Haunted

by JMS42



Series: The fundemental interconnectedness of all things [3]
Category: CSI: Miami, CSI: NY, NCIS
Genre: Crossover, Explicit Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-06-05 16:09:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15174431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JMS42/pseuds/JMS42
Summary: Something is up with Speedle. Will his friends be able to help him or will the secret devour him from the inside?





	1. Chapter One: Long lost words

**Author's Note:**

> This is tagged as rape/non-con although nothing will be graphically portrayed in the story, I though it better to err on the side of caution here. You know your triggers best.  
> Any recognizable dialog and characters are the property of the show.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Speed encounters a ghost from his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This series, particularly Speed's arch is a very personal project for me. It involves the mention of past sexual abuse of a minor- if that bothers you please read with caution. I don't think anything will be graphic or detailed but triggers beware.

**Prologue:**

Speed smiled into his coffee as he took a seat at his kitchen island. It was a beautiful day; sunny but still cool. A rare Saturday off and he fully intended to cherish the quiet, enjoy his coffee and look over the crossword before possibly seeing what a certain red headed Lieutenant had planned for his day off.  Speed had learned a lot about that certain Lieutenant- his lover Horatio- over the past few weeks. He’d learned that H was extremely ticklish on his sides, right at belly button level. That he had a scar on the back of his left knee- he’d told Speed that he got the scar in high school when he’d fallen down the bleachers. There were other scars, the most notable being the obvious burn mark from a cigarette butt on his left shoulder-Horatio hadn’t offered to explain and Tim had known better than to ask. He had learned that his lover hated cooked carrots but raw was fine, that if you let him he would eat pasta for every meal and that he had a birthmark on his lower back that was vaguely shark shaped.

He now knew for a fact that Horatio’s ears were extremely sensitive, knowledge he’d used to his advantage just the night before, sweeping an earlobe into his mouth, hands mapping the strong, freckled plains of his lover’s body. They hadn’t really moved beyond heavy petting and making out but it was enough to get Speed’s blood flowing. Clearing his throat as his thoughts veered farther and farther into the realm of explicit, Speed set down his coffee and searched under the various bits of mail on his counter for a working pen.

He was half way done with the crossword and had started on his third cup of coffee when he remembered about that bet he’d made with Danny on the ball game. Flipping to the sports section Speed located his cell under a different stack of unopened mail, hopefully to text Danny about how best to pay of his bet, no way did the Cubs lose to the Sox. His phone clattered against his mug, fingers fumbling as his eyes zeroed in on the grainy photograph.

~.~

The coffee in his mug was long cold, even the pot had shut off and cooled by the time Speed next became aware of his surroundings. It was the buzzing of his phone against the ceramic, insistently rattling the spoon, that jerked him back to reality. Blinking, glancing at the clock over the microwave Tim noticed with a start that nearly 2 hours had passed since he’d first sat down with the paper. The phone buzzed again and he answered it on auto pilot.  It was Danny, calling to tell him to pay up because the Sox had totally kicked the Cubs' ass. When he failed to respond to the taunt, Danny had sobered, not needing to guess what was wrong with his friend.

“You read the article?” Part of his reason for calling was to check on Tim, figuring he’d see the article when he checked the sports page, but another part of Danny had held out hope that his sometimes oblivious friend had managed to overlook it, or had caught the tail end of the game on the radio or something.

“No, yes, no. I saw it- didn’t bother to read it… I thought I was over it Dan, thought it was done.”

Danny bit back a sigh, not of annoyance but of frustration. He’d thought, hoped, it was over for his friend as well. Even if he’d known in his heart it never would be as long as Tanglewood was running the city. His friend might have ended up in the same field as him, but while Speed was a scientist, Danny was an investigator a heart. He understood the science, he knew the method, but when it came down to it Danny followed his gut. It was a point of contention between Mac and he at work but it was how he’d always operated and it hadn’t let him down yet, sometimes you just _knew._

“Yeah, me too man. Me too.”

The lie fell easily from Danny's lips, there was no need to tell Tim about his worries, it wouldn't help his friend to know them. Danny wondered if Sonny would ever be caught. He didn't hold much hope that all of Tanglewood would ever fall, despite the mans belief to the contrary, the gang was more than just one arrogant man. If he ever got the opportunity to take Sonny Sassone down, Danny would not hesitate. 

 

 **Chapter One: Long lost words whisper slowly to me**  

Post Ep- Broken (S1E6)

If Speed was worried things would get weird around the lab after starting an illicit relationship with the man who is essentially his boss, and then awkwardly attempting to put back some distance in the wake of a personal crisis or two, he needn’t have. Though upon reflection, the lack of awkwardness could entirely be due to the all-consuming nature of their last few cases coupled with Speed’s own inner turmoil- it wasn’t really something he wanted to examine too closely right now.  Now he was beyond exhausted, the last month seemed to catch up to him all at once. Between the shift in his relationship with Horatio, the unexpected phone call from his brother, the damn article and the last case, he didn’t have anything left to give. While they always did their best work, there was a different level of intensity among the crew throughout the Crighton case.

Even now Speed’s skin was itching, crawling beneath his button down as he paced his living room floor. Stewart was caught, Alex had gone home to her kids and Caleigh and Eric were unwinding at their favorite dive bar. They’d invited Speed to come but he’d declined, there was too much going through his head for him to try to maintain in any sort of social situation tonight. Horatio had been finishing up the last of his reports when Speed left the lab, he was probably on his way home by now. Traffic on the highway was a bitch.

Kids make it harder. Every rookie knows that, it’s one of the first things they tell you at the academy. Nobody sleeps well after a case that involves kids but Speed hasn’t been sleeping well since long before the case came through.

 _“Ninety-nine percent of violent pedophiles are male”_ Horatio had said.

It had been a few weeks since he’d seen the photo, and Tim hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since. It wasn’t on the front page or anything but the article had been a respectable length, a three column spread with two small photos backed up against the sports section. Speed hadn’t bothered to read it, he could guess easily enough. Another arrest that wouldn’t stick- drugs, prostitution, assault, it didn’t really matter what Sonny did. It never had, he always got away with it. At first he’d been riding on his father’s coattails but now that he’d established himself, Sonny Sassone was virtually untouchable. And he knew it. Had always known it.

 _‘Damnit’,_ Speed wished, not for the first time, that he’d cancelled his subscription to the New York Times. At first he’d been able to rationalize it as he liked their crossword puzzle the best, then there was always a chance of seeing Danny or his team solving some case or other. But Speed couldn’t deny it any longer. He just _had_ to know. He couldn’t _not_ know because somehow that was worse than knowing.

Even from twelve hundred miles away, after nearly a decade, Sonny Sassone still haunted him.

~.~

Speed liked working as a CSI. He liked the science and the process. He liked helping people. This may not have been what he originally went to school for, but so many of his plans had had to change so quickly it hardly mattered in the end. Speed was proud of what he’d been able to accomplish in his life, graduating high school and everything after. It had been a lifetime since he’d seen or heard from Sonny and he’d really been feeling okay. Like he’d finally moved out from under the man’s shadow and could breathe again.

Since coming to Miami, he’d reconnected with his childhood friend Danny at the urging of Pam, the first friend he’d made after his bike gave out in the parking lot of a nondescript gay bar, if there was a god Speed believed he or she definitely had a sense of humor. Danny and him had both had a good laugh when they’d realized they ultimately chose the same career. On a whim Speed had even looked up his older brother and discovered he was also an investigator working for NCIS, serendipity was a beautiful thing. They were at a point in their relationship where they exchanged bimonthly emails with the occasional phone call and it was good. It was nice. Speed had family he actually talked to, he was in contact with his best friend, he had a job he enjoyed, his coworkers and friends were pretty awesome and he’d even managed two almost dates with his boss, the man he’d admired for as long as he’d known him. His life was actually good.

Until he’d gone and opened the fucking Times and saw Sonny Sassone’s smug face and it was like the last 9 years never happened and he was right back in New York, helpless and terrified. He’d started to wake up in the middle of the night, sweaty and heart pounding. Gasping into the darkness and blinking back angry tears; phantom hands pressing on his thighs and chest. Giving up on sleep, he’d usually go stand in the shower ‘til the water ran cold, zoned out and staring at the tiled walls. Desperately trying not to remember.

The feeling of anxiety and the need to move increased. Speed stopped abruptly in his pacing and turned, heading for his bedroom. He stripped down to boxers and started pulling clothes from various piles on the floor and furniture. His jeans, faded black with a hole in one knee and a rip near the waistband were on the floor by his bed where he’d tossed them several nights ago. An equally worn black thermal with Pink Floyd’s album cover for Dark Side of the Moon cracked and peeling across the chest was grabbed from the back of his chair followed by random clean socks that didn’t match and his favorite worn boots. He shoved his wallet in his back pocket and grabbed his shades and keys and leather jacket from the kitchen before locking up his apartment and heading for the garage. He needed to be moving. Maybe if he could get his body to catch up with the speed of his whirring thoughts he could settle back into his skin.

Straddling the seat, he fished out his keys and took off not bothering with a helmet. It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Speed had an accident. His body was exhausted, his mind in turmoil and the disconnect was enough to have him leaning the wrong way into a turn and sliding out on the loose gravel. No major damage to him or the bike but jarring all the same. Tim had been riding since he was fourteen; he didn’t make mistakes like that. 

Shaken, he slowly accessed his situation. His left leg was pretty shredded from road rash, the old jeans hadn’t offered any protection. His jacket was pretty scuffed but his arms were whole, his neck and face were stinging with cuts and abrasions. A rock had ricocheted up and left a short gash above his right eye, blood obscured his vision. His mind was strangely quiet as he slowly gathered himself up ignoring the stinging pain as he bent his knees, pulling on raw skin.

His bike was fine, the paint was fucked to hell and the body was a little dented but the gas tank and the rest was fully intact. He was beyond lucky that he’d slowed down substantially due to bumpy incline before that turn. Shaking hands reached into the jacket's inside pocket and withdrew a battered pack of cigarettes and a small bic lighter. Speed wasn’t a regular smoker, but there were times when the habit helped ground him like nothing else could. This was one of those times.

~.~

Horatio’s lips quirked as he watched the children play in the fading light. It was haunting and gratifying at the same time, seeing children run and laugh; vibrant and alive, completely unaware of the dangers lurking just out of sight. It was so easy to forget sometimes that monsters didn’t always look scary, they wore masks of ordinary people and that’s what made them so dangerous. They could walk right into unsuspecting people’s lives without raising any red flags, destroy them, and walk back out unnoticed.

Horatio Caine was far from unsuspecting, he’d had his own monsters to face. And so had Tim if he was reading the younger man right. It was no doubt partially related to the latest case but something about Speed had seemed off the past few weeks. He was quieter, a little more withdrawn and during the latest, the Crighton case, he’d seemed almost unfocused. Horatio wouldn’t go so far as to accuse the younger man of being unfit for duty, but the dark circles under his eyes were deep and pronounced and his speech had seemed slower, more choppy than usual and notably lacking in sarcastic quips or come backs.

Pushing thoughts about work, the case and even Speedle aside for the moment, Horatio stayed at the park through sundown when the last of the kids had gone home and the only sounds left were the gentle ripples of water and the low croaks of the frogs. He made his way to the playground and indulgently claimed one of the swings, wistful smile on his face as he gently swayed back and forth. He and Raymond used to come to the park after the sun set. Their father often worked the night shift and it was a time of freedom for them. Closing his eyes, Horatio could remember the chain of the swings, still warm from the sun as it twisted in his fingers. The creak of the swings, the steady hum of the power lines, Ray's laugh; bright and clear. The air would be comfortably cool across their skin as the streetlights flickered on. Sand would worm its way into Horatio's sneakers via the hole in the toe. It had been peaceful, a small chance to be a child even if only in the dim of twilight. 

~.~

When he pulled into his drive a half an hour later Horatio was pleasantly surprised to see Speedle’s bike until he spotted the man himself. He was slumped against the house, face a bloody mess in the illumination of his porch light. Alarmed, Horatio practically lept out of the hummer.

“Speed! What happened? Are you alright?”

Speed couldn’t quite meet his gaze as he looked up and muttered something about “bike” and “little spill” and “lost phone”. Worried at Speed’s lack of coherency Horatio quickly unlocked his front door and ushered the younger man inside. Sitting him on a kitchen chair Horatio grabbed a clean towel and wet it in the sink. He needed to clean some of the blood away and see how bad the damage was. Wounds to the face tended to bleed heavily; there was no sense in panicking before he had all the facts. 

“Speed, what happened tonight?” Horatio questioned again.

The brunette took a slow steadying breath, “Sorry H, I had a spill on my bike and I just- I didn’t know where to go. I’m sorry, its really not anything bad. Just some road-rash. I should’ve just headed back home, sorry.”

Horatio put a warm hand on Speed’s shoulder to stop the rambling. “Its fine Speed, I’m glad you came. Did you ride here after you crashed?”

Speed nodded absently, eyes a little unfocused and Horatio examined his head wound more closely. The gash to Speed’s forehead wasn’t particularly deep and the bruising around the edges was light even for the early stages so Horatio figured he should be more worried about shock than a concussion. Mind flicking through images of Speed’s bike when he’d first pulled up Horatio realized with a start that Speed’s helmet had not been hanging from the handlebars or stowed on the seat or ground and he didn’t have it with him now. That worried the older man. A lot.

Speed was fairly conscientious of the law, despite his habit of speeding, and wore his helmet as religiously as he buckled his seat belt in a car.

“Speed, where’s your helmet?”

~.~

After confirming that the wound to Speed’s forehead was only superficial, Horatio pulled his first aid kit from under the kitchen sink. A few butterfly bandages and Speeds head was all sorted except for the light bruising coming up. The road-rash was another matter. His leg was by far the worst of it and it took a full bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a stiff brush to get the abrasions cleaned. He’d ended up helping Tim hobble to the tub to finish the job. A quick photo sent to Alex to confirm a hospital visit wasn’t necessary and Horatio was helping Tim back to his couch. He hoped the younger man would open up about what was bothering him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am looking for a beta reader, if anyone is interested you can send me a message on Tumblr where I go by the same user name. Feedback is much appreciated, this series has been building in my head for years but I'm just finally getting it written. Two posts in one day feels very ambitious but that is largely due to my having this whole week off work, don't take this as an accurate portrayal of my future posting schedule. Cheers!


	2. Chapter Two: Whisper slowly to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric and Calleigh discuss their concerns for their friend, Horatio and Speed try to find a healthy balance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was not planning on posting anything today but since it's International Fanworks Day, why not? 30% of this was written in the last hour so there are probably some mistakes- all my own.

The music, some generic country rock ballad pounded in time with the blood pulsing in Calleigh’s temples. She had a headache. The long hours, the lights and the music in the crowded bar, she was ready to head home. Unfortunately her partner didn’t seem to be on the same page. A delicate blonde brow arched incredulously as she watched the tall man throw back yet another drink. It was a good thing she was driving.

“Hey, slow down Eric! I’m getting worried about you.” She chastised.

Eric regarded her seriously, “I’m worried about Speedle.”

Calleigh blinked in surprise. “About Tim? Why?”

Eric shrugged. “I dunno, he’s been acting weird. Him and Horatio, Megan too come to think of it. But especially Speed. He’s been jumpy and quiet- even for him.”

As much as she wanted to dismiss what Eric was saying and usher him toward her truck so she could head home herself, Calleigh couldn’t deny the truth to it. Megan _had_ been acting a little strange lately, it was more than just adjusting to the new power dynamic with Horatio leading the team. Calleigh had an idea what it might be. If she was right, she’d be sorry to see the other woman go. Horatio had been acting differently lately as well. Calleigh had seen him smiling to himself over the last two weeks when he thought he was alone. She had also found him looking profoundly worried on several occasions but at times when he wouldn’t have been thinking about a case. The blonde had an idea that Horatio might be seeing someone.

And then there was Speedle.

Tim and Calleigh were not the closest. They worked well together and respected one another but that was as far as it went. They rarely spent time together off the clock. Not that Speedle was known to be a social butterfly but he did occasionally go out for a drink with Eric. Even still, Calleigh noticed he had been a little bit more subdued of late. Now that she was thinking about it, she had missed his usual sarcastic commentary at the last few crime scenes. Something was evidently bothering the man. She would have to make a better effort to be there for Tim, and let him know she was there if he ever wanted to talk. Not that she really thought he'd take her up on that but it couldn't hurt to let him know he had people in his corner. 

Delko’s foot slipped off the bar stool and collided with Calleigh’s pant leg for the tenth time since she’d been counting. She decided it was time to call it a night. Luckily, Eric knew how to hold his liquor. Even though he was far from fit to drive, he wasn’t so intoxicated that he couldn’t move under his own power and he was mostly aware of his surroundings. Caleigh was grateful for that as she herded him to her vehicle with a minimal fuss, wondering if it was his Cuban or Russian heritage that contributed the most to his high tolerance.

After dropping Eric off and waiting in the drive to see him get in safely, Calleigh drove herself home in silence. If Tim didn’t want to talk to her, as she suspected, maybe she could try asking Alexx. A lot of people confided in the older woman and she gave excellent advice. Feeling better now that she had some sort of plan she let herself into her apartment, ready to collapse in bed with a lighter heart.

~.~

Horatio regarded the sleeping form on his couch as he started a pot of coffee in his kitchen. Despite his hopes, Speed had not confided in him last night. The two men had sat up together until the wee hours but few words were spoken. Instead Speed seemed to take comfort in his proximity, melting into his side on the couch.

_“You know Speed, I’m right here. If you want to talk-”_

_“I know. Thanks H, but if it’s ok, can we just sit here for now?”_

Horatio couldn’t deny him his request, although now in the morning light he wished he would’ve pushed just a little harder.

~.~

Pam Stoovey was a lady who didn’t take no shit. At 250 pounds, standing 5’7” tall she didn’t have to worry about much. She’d been working as a bouncer at The Dike, a gay bar just far enough off the beaten path to be interesting, ever since she’d “retired” to Miami. No one in her line of work ever really retired though, and she’d only lasted about 3 days sitting on the beach sipping brightly colored drinks before the inactivity got to her. The Dike may have been a dive, but she loved her job. It kept her occupied and mostly out of trouble and it’s where she’d met her partner, Elaine.

It was still early, but the bar was already open. Serving a few sad sack regulars and preparing for another day. Even still Pam was not overly surprised when the Hummer pulled into the lot and a familiar head of red hair stepped out.

“Morning Lieutenant” she called, moving behind the bar to pour them both a drink. If Horatio was here this early, without Speed, they’d probably need it.

“Pam, Elaine, how’s business?”

Elaine snorted and pressed a kiss to her lovers shoulder as she passed. “We all know you’re not here to ask about business Horatio. I’ll leave you two to talk, Jimmy needs help setting up the amps. We got a Heart cover band playing tonight, they’re pretty good. You should bring your boy.”

And with that she disappeared around the corner trailing her long dark hair behind. 

“So,” Pam edged, leaning against the bar, her blonde hair now streaked with gray, was pulled back into a loose bun with some strands that had fallen to hang limply about her forehead from the humidity.

“So” Horatio agreed, copying her posture as he sat on a stool.

“We could do this all day H, or you could tell me what the shit is happening with Tim that’s got you worried enough to drive out here before lunch.”

“I was sort of hoping you could tell me” he said, watching closely as Pam tilted her head on one side in question.

“Tell you what Horatio?”

“About what’s bothering Tim. He doesn’t want to talk with me, but I know something’s wrong. He showed up at my house last night, bloody and scraped to hell. He crashed his bike and I don’t think he’d been wearing a helmet.”

Pam’s face went carefully blank. Uncommunicative and reckless where his own safety was concerned sounded like the young man who’d first shown up in their parking lot four years ago, not like the CSI she’d come to know.

“I can’t tell you much H-” she held a hand up to forestall any complaint. “I can’t, because I don’t know all that much. I know that when Tim first got to Miami he was hurting bad, but he never told me the specifics. I’ve spoken with his friend back in New York a time or two, he gave me some hints but nothing concrete. I’m sorry Horatio, I wish I could be of more help.”

“I’ll take whatever you got.”

“Tim doesn’t trust easily, but he does trust you. Just be patient with him. He’ll open up when he’s ready. In the meantime, send him my way and maybe I can slap some sense into his thick skull.”

Horatio rapped his knuckle on the bar top and slid to his feet. “Thanks Pam, I’ll see what I can do.”

~.~

Speed knew he was being an idiot. After Horatio had dropped him off back at his apartment, the older man refused to let Tim drive his bike back without a helmet, Speed had climbed into the shower in an attempt to center himself. The previous night sitting up with Horatio had been great, but now he was alone and his thoughts were a whirlwind once more. Speed felt ashamed for letting himself fall back into old habits the night before. Today he would do better, today he would be better. He dressed comfortably and stepped out onto his porch to do some breathing exercises in the fresh air.

Sitting quietly, feeling the sun on his face, he let his mind wander. Speeds lip quirked in a half grin at the memory that sprang to the forefront of his mind. Tim hadn’t known whether or not to believe her when Pam had first told him that she used to be a counselor, but he couldn’t deny that even if she hadn’t practiced in years, she still knew her stuff. The breathing exercises were one the first things she’d taught him, along with self-defense, after finding him that gray morning in the parking lot of The Dike. Apparently, she’d put herself through college by championing the underground fight scene, _“A story for another time”_ as she was so fond of saying.

Tim was grateful for his friends, he didn’t know where or what he would be without them. Especially Pam and Danny who had been there for him when he'd most needed it. But he also realized he couldn’t keep counting on them for everything. And he didn’t want to burden Horatio either, it was time for him to learn to stand on his own. He knew Horatio said he was willing to help in any way Speed allowed him to, but he needed to try it on his own first. He wasn’t a scared kid anymore, he’d learned to take care of himself at a young age, and then re-learned how to care for himself as an adult. There was no reason Speed should not be able to do this.

~.~

Eric smiled as Calleigh opened the door of his truck and climbed in. They were going to grab breakfast- no alcohol this time because they were technically on call for the day. 

"Good morning sunshine" she teased with a dimpled grin. 

"Good morning to you too. Sorry I got so drunk on you last night."

Calleigh's smile didn't falter as she buckled her seat-belt 

"It's okay. I understand. The last case was a rough one and we were all feeling it. Besides you hold your alcohol pretty well big guy."

"Thanks" he chuckled. "But seriously, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or put you out. Especially since I know-"

"It's okay. Really Eric. We're okay." She interrupted before he could finish. The last thing she wanted this morning was to talk about  _him._

If Eric had learned anything from growing up with three sisters, it was to quit while you were still ahead.

"Okay. You wanna go to the diner? Or check out the new place that just opened off the highway?"

"Now Eric," she was all teasing grins again, "You know I never gamble over a sure thing."

"Diner it is then."

A companionable silence enveloped them that lasted through their first cups of coffee. 

"Delko, do you remember what you said last night?"

Eric promptly choked on a sip of coffee.

"You said we were okay!" he blurted out before his brain could process the words. 

Calleigh gave in and rolled her blue eyes. 

"We are okay Eric. Do you remember what you said about Speedle?"

"Speed?" Eric's brain was stubbornly refusing to catch up. 

"Last night you said you were worried about Speedle. And I thought about it, I am too."

"Oh, right. No, yeah. I mean sure, he's been acting so...  _off_ lately. You know?"

"Yeah, I think I do. Since you said something I've been going over the last few weeks in my head. He really hasn't been himself. And Horatio and Megan have been acting strangely as well."

Eric nodded, glad he was finally following the conversation. "Yeah you're right. Everyone's been sort of quiet lately. What do you think it is?"

Calleigh took a sip of her coffee, sweet and strong, just how she liked it. Slowly she shook her head. 

"I really don't know Eric. But it worries me. I want to help if I can but I don't know where to even begin."

"Yeah, me too. Maybe we could get another opinion?  I mean have you talked with Alexx yet?"

Finishing her coffee, Calleigh smiled. "I think that's a great idea Eric. Even if Alexx doesn't know what's going on, she'll want to help to."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pam Stoovey is 100% inspired by the character Pam Poovey from Archer. She was so enamored with Lana, I thought that she deserved a happy ending and a lover of her own who appreciated her for the badass that she is.


End file.
